


Familiar Stranger

by JustLyra



Series: The kinky adventures of Bambi & Jorge [1]
Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sex Club, Sex Toys, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4846946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jorge goes to a club to find a willing toy to spend the night with. It's no strings, kinky, fun with a stranger. What happens when one of the strangers is a familiar face?</p><p>[I have so many fic things on atm I have no right to be doing something new, but this bit me last night and won't leave so....]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Following the older man along the corridor Jorge shivered at the sounds echoing around the building, moans and wails from persons unseen, each hidden behind one of the many heavy oak doors they'd clipped past. Lost in his own world he almost stumbled as the club owner abruptly stopped outside of another door, identical to all of the ones they'd already passed, a tiny gold number on the wall denoting they'd come to the right one, Room 28, his room.

"I'm sure you will find everything to your satisfaction," The well dressed man motioned around the room with his hand, pointing out the huge bed, the mini bar (which was more full size fridge packed with expensive alcohol), and the cupboard of 'accessories', "Settle yourself in, have a drink and I shall bring along a selection of our toys for you to peruse shortly."

"Thank you."

Taking off his jacket, new and expensive, he hung it on the back of a chair, not wanting to crease it in any activities that may occur, he took a beer from the fridge, not feeling in a champagne mood and took a good look around the room.

As you would expect from an establishment as elite, and expensive, as it was the room was immaculate. The walls were a deep blue, not quite dark enough to be navy, but not light enough to be royal. The furniture was all glossy wood, meticulously varnished, and unblemished, giving the illusion that it was your room, never used before.

Settling on the edge of the desk, too nervous to sit still, but not wanting to be caught pacing, he closed his eyes, counting to ten as he breathed in and out, momentarily snickering to himself, wondering what the first personal trainer who taught him to do that to calm himself would think of him using it in a situation such as thing. Before his mind wandered further there was a sharp knock at the door, the man returning, four toys with him, all naked and quickly on their knees in the centre of the room.

With a nod the man stepped back, allowing Jorge the chance to look at them, to choose, to buy the one that would spend the night with him, in that room, to do with as he wished. Moving closer, refusing to think about any moralities, feeling it unnecessary knowing that in this particular establishment the toys had paid just as much to be there as he had, he looked at the first, a blond female. "No."

Moving to the second, a blond man, the place trustworthy enough that this could be an option, Jorge frowned again, not knowing what he was looking for, just knowing this wasn't it. "No."

The brunette woman, collar on her neck labelling her as "Three", was stunning; flawless skin, beautiful long hair, full breasts with hardened nipples, yet still not right. "No."

Moving to view Four Jorge met wide, brown, stunned eyes, his own breath catching at the realisation, at the recognition on the face of the other man.

"Is there a problem?" Stepping out of the shadows the man tilted his head, looking between them, Four taking the first opportunity to speak.

"No Sir..."

Feeling his breath catch again, the words like a permission he'd never expected to get, the face not the one he'd been subconsciously looking for, but so very close to it, Jorge nodded, "Yes... I mean, yes this one. Not yes there is a problem. There is no problem."

Selecting the fourth of his cards the gentleman nodded, handing Jorge the sheet, "This is his information. Would you like him prepared for you?"

"No."

Silence hanging heavy in the room, mingling with anticipation and expectation, the signatures were put onto paper, each accepting the others limit; Four completely trusting in the rigidity of the club's procedures that he'd never be paired with someone likely to breach his hard limits, both trusting the discretion of everyone else in the building that their preferences would never become public knowledge.

"What do I call you?" Finally alone, the door closed, a minder outside ready to step in if either of them shouted their allocated safe word, Jorge took a mouthful of his beer, "What do you want me to call you?"

Biting his lip, wondering if the decision not to back out was the right one, Four looked up, eyes wide and open, before looking down, straightening his back, "You may call me what you wish..."

"Normally I use slut," Forgetting the link, the identity attached to the face, Jorge cast his eye over the body; sculpted, but not too much, pale, but with lines showing there was a tan, "But usually that name is earned..."

Closing his eyes, the sharp, clipped tone going straight to his cock, the suited and booted attire of the older man adding to the sensations, Four's voice wobbled, "I'd like to earn that name, Master."

"Don't call me Master," Moving from the desk, walking around, smirking at the hardness of the cock jutting out from the tuft of dark hair, Jorge fell into the place he wanted to be in as he tangled his fingers into the short, dark hair, loving the gasp as he pulled the head back, "You haven't earned that either, _yet_..."

Looking up, Jorge's green eyes dark in the low light, Four shuddered, "Please let me earn it."

"Call me Sir," Jorge ordered, his cock getting harder at the wanton, needy look on the other's face, "Get on the bed, arse in the air, face down I want to have a good look at you..."

Moving to the cupboard, it full of things that could be useful to him, every detail organised by the club meticulous, not a single item in there not to his taste, Jorge selected a few items out before turning back and catching the groan that almost slipped out at the sight.

Running a hand over the firm roundness of his arse Jorge nodded, squeezing hard, hard enough to probably leave tiny fingerprint bruises, ignoring the gasp, "Nice. Very nice. But I want to see the good bits. Spread yourself."

Glad his face was pressed into the pillow, his face beaming red, Four reached back, hands and fingers gripping his own cheeks and pulled them apart, letting Jorge see the most intimate spot on his body, showing it off.

"Wider."

His face burning Four pulled his cheeks wider apart, giving a better view, humiliating himself some more in the most glorious way. Unable to help himself he let out a squeak as cold lube was poured down his crack, the glob following gravity and edging closer and closer to his hole.

"Don't move until I tell you..." One eye locked on the younger man, Jorge moved around the room, taking a drink, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, toeing off his shoes, just leaving him there, letting the lube trail down his crack, draw a hiss as it slid over his hole, cold and slick, before continuing down, eventually dropping some on his balls, making him hiss again.

And he didn't move, Jorge noted, pleased and disappointed in equal measure, his arms trembled at points, and his body twitched, especially when the cold liquid moved over his hole, but he didn't move, he obeyed beautifully, and going by the bobbing and twitching of his cock, and the leaking pre-ejaculate, he enjoyed obeying, something Jorge would never have expected of him.

"How do you like to be opened?" Running his index finger down the crack, letting it loiter over the puckered entrance for a few seconds before continuing, Jorge ignored the fact he knew from the card because the card had humiliation high on the like list, "How do you want me to stretch you before I fuck you?"

"Rrrough..." Voice shaky, loving and hating being made to speak, Four panted out the word, wailing loud when Jorge's finger left his crack and his hand slapped down on his cheek.

"Rough who?"

"Sir..." Gasping for breath, his balls already wanting to explode, Four trembled, the sternness in the voice making him harder than ever, "I llike it rough, Sir."

"Better..." Tapping his finger on the other man's hole, Jorge took a sharp breath, pulling down his zip with his free hand, the sound making the other shiver, Jorge already loving the fact the other loved mind games as much as he did, "It's so fucking tempting just to fuck you... Just stuff my cock inside you, you'd be _so_ fucking tight.... Do you want me to open you first? Because if you do you better ask nicely..."

"Please Sir," Already breathless, the idea awful of Jorge just pushing in, the idea of the pain that would cause, to just be _taken_ , awful, but wonderful at the same time and the shame of begging for Jorge's fingers making him crimson, Four pleaded, "Please open me, please let me have your fingers, I want them inside me so much, please..."

"Hmmm..."

"I'll do anything else, please please let me have them. I'll be able to take you for longer if you open me up first..."

"You'll take me for as long as I decide ...Four..." Jorge coughed, hoping the near slip of the other's name wouldn't ruin the atmosphere, choosing that moment to push his index finger into Alex, only up to the first knuckle, the wail from the younger beautiful, "More?"

"Please! Please more. Please please fuck!" Four's knuckles whitened, his fingers digging painfully into his own ass cheeks as Jorge's finger pushed into him, stretching his hole, the burning sensation nippy and glorious, but Jorge sensing his ability to easily cope with that quickly pushed in a second, this pain more painful, like a burn with scalding water, the stilled fingers feeling too much and not enough as his body adjusted to the intrusion, "Thank you. Thank you, Sir, thank you."

*

"Please may I come?" Wailing loud, his hands wobbling, it taking every ounce of concentration he had to keep his grip on his cheeks, Jorge's fingers switching between rapidly fucking him, hard, and repeatedly stroking his prostate, Four felt his orgasm build, it having built and subsided three times already, Jorge cruelly pulling his hand away for just long enough, this time showing no sign of stopping, but Jorge not yet having given his permission, "Please..."

"Not yet."

"Please! Please, please may I?"

"No," Using his free hand to play with the others balls, Jorge smirked at the high pitched whine, lowering his voice, "Don't you dare..."

"Oh please..." Feeling his balls begin to pulse, hearing the noise from his own throat that signalled that he'd gone beyond the point of no return, Four wailed, begging, all his words running together, "Please may I come, please, Sir, PLEASE..."

"You may...."

"Oh god..." Jerking against Jorge's fingers, his hands losing their grip, Four felt like time was slowing, his body going into spasm, balls tightening as he screamed his way over the edge, cum spurting onto the bed beneath him, "Fuck... Oh fuck... Thank you. Thank you, Sir."

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright?"

Four nodded, the few moments of tenderness, Jorge guiding him onto his side, the older man's fingers stroking his side, giving him roots as he shuddered back to reality, his orgasm having left him a quivering wreck, "Yes, yes Sir, thank you Sir."

"Drink?" Holding the glass to the younger man's lips Jorge tipped the liquid slowly, letting it trickle into the his mouth, Four grateful, his mouth dry from screaming loud, "Good."

"Thank you Sir."

"I want you to suck me," Back to the gruff, bossy, tone, Jorge put the glass down, adjusting himself through his trousers, Four's beautiful, lithe, body having had him turned on since minute one.

Nodding, eyes back on the floor, slipping back into the role that had never quite felt as natural as it did with Jorge, that thought pushed aside quickly, Four moved onto his knees, fingers trembling slightly as he opened Jorge's belt buckle, quickly ridding him of his trousers, boxers following the same chucked aside path, "How do you like it, Sir? Hands or no hands?"

"I like it when you do as you are told and don't ask questions..." Jorge growled, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Four's hair, pulling him down, balls tingling when Four's mouth simply opened, pliant and willing.

Hands by his side, Four hollowed his cheeks, giving Jorge a hot wetness to thrust into, trying to control his gag reflex as Jorge's hips thrust higher off the bed, pushing his thick cock over Four's tongue, nudging at his throat, making his eyes water, but taking it, wanting it, and taking over the pace of his bobbing as Jorge's rhythm faltered, the gaspy swears falling from Jorge's mouth as he swallowed around him spurring him on, almost desperately wanting to make Jorge come, to do good, to make him proud.

"That's it," The sight of Four; lips red, shiny with saliva, hollowed cheeks and glassy eyes, possibly the most beautiful he'd seen, Jorge tightened his fingers in his hair, steadying his pace, locking their eyes before pressing, pushing himself past Four's gag reflex, feeling him force himself to relax around Jorge, his throat glorious, waiting until Four's eyes widened, almost, but not quite panicking, "Easy..."

Lungs burning, Jorge's cock pushed deeper than he thought it could go, Four blinked, waiting, gasping as Jorge finally pulled out, letting him take a sharp breath before his hand pushed again, sliding his cock deeper, taking the ultimate control, holding it even longer, before repeating the process again and again - each time holding him tight for a few seconds after he tried to pull away, like a stark reminder that he'd sold himself, that he belonged to Jorge, that his wishes; to come, to enjoy, even to _breathe_ , were unimportant, which made Four's cock twitch, almost too sensitive, but, again, out of his control.

"Yesyesyes..." One hand in Four's hair, guiding the pace, allowing him to work his mouth and tongue on his cock, Jorge swore as Four's tongue swirled around his tip, brushing his slit as Jorge pushed back in, Jorge grunted as he felt his balls tighten, his climax getting closer, "Look at me..."

Looking up, batting his long eyelashes, Four redoubled his efforts, desperate to do well, creating the tightest seal around Jorge that he could, letting a hand wander to Jorge's balls, a feeling of pride washing over him as Jorge yanked him backwards, hair almost being ripped out as streams of cum splashed on his face, clinging to his cheekbones and decorating his lips.

"Leave that where it is..." Watching Four's tongue snap back into his mouth, the accompanying unhappy grunt making Jorge grin, the clear desperation to taste making Four's face blush bright red, "You haven't earned that yet... And you look so pretty with me all over your face..."

 Eyes down Four cringed, the shame of wanting to taste Jorge making his cock twitch, the renewed interest almost painful.

"I like the way your hands fall behind your back instinctively," Brushing some hair from Four's forehead, the younger instinctively closing his eyes, the gentle touch like a luxurious reward, Jorge gave him a moment before his need to boss him around kicked back in, "I want you by the bench; legs apart next to the legs, hands behind your back.... Are you carrying any injuries?"

"No, no injuries, Sir...."

"How are your shoulders? No problems with dislocations or anything?"

"No problems."

"Pardon?"

"Sir," Four's eyes flared wide, "Sorry Sir."

"You will be..." The cool, unflustered tone in Jorge's voice somehow sounding more threatening than anything Four had heard before, "Go on then..."

Getting up from his knees Four moved to where he had to be, legs apart, slightly wider than shoulder width, arms crossed behind his back, his elbows bending to keep them in place when Jorge moved them higher. Waiting, his senses heightened as Jorge moved around behind him, getting things from the cupboard, Four jumped slightly when a loop of rope, soft with a slightly rough texture, appeared around his wrist, Jorge twisting and looping it around his wrists and chest expertly, quickly rendering his arms immobile, but safely so, every single loop and knot checked and re-checked meticulously as Jorge moved around him in silence, sheer concentration on his face.

"How are you with things around your neck?" Stilling his work for a moment, Jorge held a bundle of red rope in his hand, the rich colour of the rope already used contrasting beautifully with Four's skin tone.

Clearing his throat, Four shrugged, or tried to, "I've never... With rope... Sir..."

"It will be tight, but it won't restrict your breathing."

"Will it tighten, like a choker?"

"No."

"Ok."

"Sure?"

"Yes Sir, I trust you."

"Thank you," Jorge nodded, before putting his concentration face back on, looping the rope through the binds already in place, before wrapping the rope around his neck, knotting it out of sight behind him, "This won't slip or tighten..."

Nodding as Jorge emphasised his point, the tug on the rope simply moving his entire top half, the pulling around his neck interesting; less than a hand, but more than a thin collar. Closing his eyes Four tried to ignore the heat from Jorge's breath as the elder leant down to tie his ankles, deliberately breathing out close to Four's crack, making him shiver as deft fingers secured him to the bench, the only movement left in his body his waist, meaning he could be pressed over the bench, which Jorge adjusted to match his height perfectly, allowing  him security to know if he fell he'd be supported, and Jorge complete freedom with his body.

"There are safety scissors on the desk. It will cut through the rope in seconds if we need too... If your hands get sore or numb or if any of the ropes start to cut in too uncomfortably then you tell me, ok?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good."

Waiting, feeling Jorge move away from him, no idea what he was doing Four tried to pinpoint the sounds, just standing, cock half-hard, waiting for _Jorge Lorenzo_ to finish rustling in the cupboard and moving around the room. Twitching as everything went silent for a few seconds Four jumped at the loud crack behind him, the sound of Jorge, obviously experienced, cracking a sharp whip making him whimper.

"Let's get you started..." Pressing a hand between his shoulder blades, Jorge bent him over the bench, only giving him a few seconds to settle before cracking his hand down on Four's rump, quickly slapping down on each cheek, only a few seconds apart, not supremely hard, but enough to bring the start of a little heat to the skin surface.

Losing count of the slaps, the sensation hot, but relaxing, him liking the tiny hint of paint, Four let out a contented sigh, cursing himself when Jorge cackled.

"Am I boring you?"

"No! No Sir," Cringing, paying Jorge wouldn't stop, Four found himself babbling, "It's just been a long time since..."

"Since?"

"Since I was with someone who knows what they were doing like you obviously do... It's just good..."

"Hmm..." Massaging Four's cheeks, his fingers digging into the flesh roughly, Jorge hide the fact that he liked that, as much as he loved being on top, having a bottom who relished in the same things was his biggest turn on in life, he'd long since got bored of people who pretended they enjoyed it for him, "Can you take a lot?"

"I like a lot Sir..."

"I'm going to fuck you afterward... Right afterwards," Jorge smirked at the excited shiver that ran through Four, "I've been doing this a long time, have you ever felt a bull whip?"

"Only once," Four's voice caught in his throat, his skin goose bumping in anticipation, remembering the night, his face covered, the owner of the club used him for a demonstration in the public room, his skin marked with immaculately straight lines for days afterward, "I like it, the pain, I like the pain..."

"Good," Picking up the paddle, bringing the fat, flat, leather down on Four's rump with a satisfying thwack, Four yelping, Jorge grinned wide, "Because I like inflicting pain..."

Getting into his rhythm Jorge relaxed, Four's low moans like the hum of an engine, both of them getting into the regularity of the thwack, wait, thwack, wait, routine that saw Four's cheeks change from the soft pink of the hand spanking into a deep, warm, red. Once Four's cheeks were nicely reddened Jorge stopped, putting the leather aside and ran his nails over the tender skin, amused by the hiss from Four, the younger trying to stay as quiet as he could, already slipping into his space.

"Stand up..."

Trembling, Jorge rubbing the suede flogger against his skin, his brain already scrambling at the contrasting sensations the soft, yet strong, material were going to give him, Four took several deep breaths, grounding himself, trying not to fidget, keeping his hands balled into fists, out of the way, and waited for Jorge to begin.

The sensation of the flogger was one Four could never explain. It was a mix of a sharp pain and a thud. The flogger Jorge had chosen was, Four thought, perfect for crawling into his brain and confusing him. The softness of the suede and the thickness of the tails meant that any soft strokes from Jorge were like a caress, only a tiny hint of a thump adding to the redness on Four's ass. However, the multiple strands meant that when Jorge flicked his wrist hard the tails cracked down on his skin with a sharp sting, defined lines starting to show, the red standing out against the reddening pink of the rest of the skin.

Alongside the multiple sensations the flogger brought different sounds, Jorge alternating between pulling low moans and soft cries from Four, the general pain increasing, it taking more effort from Four to relax between strokes, Jorge not settling on a regular rhythm, keeping him on his toes, playing with his brain as well as his body, Four's cock rock hard, telling the older man everything he needed to know when the sounds didn't detail it enough.

Putting the flogger down Jorge ran his hand over Four's ass, the younger man hissing, his ass now sore, not just warm, "You're doing so well..."

Standing straighter, the ache in his bound arms somehow lessening with the praise, Four smiled, "Thank you Sir."

"I think you could take the whip," Pressing a soft kiss to Four's shoulder, the younger man taller, Jorge paused for a second, calculating the space on the skin he was willing to hit, everything meticulous, even though his cock was painfully hard, Four's safety paramount in his mind, "I think eight..."

Breath catching in his throat, eight double the number of strokes he'd taken before, Four counted to ten, controlling himself, before nodding, "Yes Sir."

"Good boy..." Jorge moved to the desk, picking up the whip, checking it again, before moving back into the centre of the room, checking his distances, watching Four tremble as he cracked the whip near him, "Close your eyes... I will pause between each stroke, if it is too much use your safe word, once I lay the eighth stroke I want you to bend over, ready for me to fuck you. Ok?"

"Yes..." Voice nowhere near as confident, his limit about to be severely tested, Four breathed out slowly, preparing himself.

One. A line like a sharp burn across the middle of his ass. The yelp loud, most definitely audible from the corridor, Four panted, trying to catch his breath, the air ripped from his lungs.

Two. Another line. Beautifully straight, cutting across the top of his ass, jumping out at Jorge from the skin, the sound of the wail making his cock bob.

Three. Hearing the scream, then realising it came from himself, Four drifted, in the room, but somehow not, in his own body, but somehow not. Everything too much, but somehow not.

Four. The most dangerous line created perfectly, highlighting the skin where thighs became ass, a few tiny droplets of blood, the sound of the crack glorious.

Five. The burn replaced by a cutting pain. Like something trying to slice his skin open, this line nestled between two others, his scream hurting his own ears.

Six. Less force, marking the very bottom of his back, making sure that sitting back would sting as much as sitting down, Jorge had to count to ten, allow Four to steady himself, tears on the younger man's cheeks. Almost there.

Seven. Too much. The word on his tongue, the scream leaving him hoarse, unable to imagine where another line could fit, a second hit on a line unimaginable.

Eight. The last corner. The final mark. The picture completed. The welts all perfectly straight, standing out against the skin in their bright red uniform. Loud and proud.

Sagging onto the bench, tears streaming down his face, pride and pain intermingling wonderfully Alex wailed, Jorge's fingers pressing into his cheeks feeling like hot pokers burning his skin, but then he wailed again, Jorge's tongue flickering over his hole like hot, wet, velvet, the sensations confusing and verging on too much.

Lubing up two fingers Jorge pushed them in, rough, scissoring them quickly, knowing instinctively the younger man didn't need, or want, too much, too sensitive and too addicted to the edgy buzz of pain.

" _Fuck_..." His voice more a growl than anything else, the tight, hotness enveloping him lessened in no way by the condom, Jorge grasped onto the ropes binding Four, using them as hand holds as he pushed in, slowly, but relentlessly pushing, until Four was wailing about the stinging of the push on his sore ass.

Finally losing some of his composure Jorge pulled out, before slamming back in, using the wails as inspiration as he lost himself in the desire to pound out his orgasm, using the younger man to satisfy him, hearing him explode and using the clamping tightness to thrust out his own orgasm, the air filled with the sound of profanities and the smell of sex. Both of them utterly ruined, bodies sweat slick, exhaustion starting to creep in as Jorge cut the ropes, flopping onto the bed, arms open, another invitation to the familiar stranger.


End file.
